Blank Spaced
by FexGoneHavoc
Summary: We, as writers, all had that annoying condition of being unable to think of what to write and be creative. That situation happens here as one of our favorite characters struggles to find some inspiration. (Bubbline Real World AU, one-shot!)


I have never felt so sore in my entire life. The muscles within my legs have grown stiff and the nerves of my hands have gone numb. The source of light of which I've been staring at for a couple hours hasn't ever been so hot in my face. I've just realized that eyeing at it too long would create some sort of haze and eventually blacken my sight, so occasionally I had to blink and look somewhere else. But yet again, I'd return my gaze to the clean, blank worksheet in front of me. The screen has never been this bright.

I shuffled in my position on the couch and adjusted the pillow behind me to a proper angle, all the while balancing the laptop on my thighs. I've long abandoned my sitting position hours ago, my back would often drop into a slouch whenever I tried to straighten it up. Now, both my legs are up on the couch as lie down with a large pillow under me. It was comfortable at first, but then I had to scuffle a few times and back to regain my composure.

Once again, as I wiggled further on my seat, I gazed at the screen with furrowed brows. It glared at me brightly, like it was threatening to maul my whole body if I don't start typing any coherent sentences, or any single word at all. Funny as it is, I'm struggling to form a simple phrase, as if I was back a child just learning how to read and write.

I typed a few words, then long pressed the 'backspace'. Typed a new sentence. Hovered my fingers above the keyboard for a brief moment. Then pressed 'backspace' again.

I groaned. Writing a story would never be this difficult, would it? I've always been so imaginative, always so active in my thoughts. Now my mind is as blank as this worksheet right in front of me. I rubbed the space between my eye brows, closing my eyes at the slight pain I felt in my head. It was beginning to ache, and I really needed a break.

Then a break I shall have. Shutting the laptop lid a bit harshly, I raised my upper body into a sit then placed my bare feet on the cold floor. I should be shuddering, but somehow it soothed the numbness of my lower limbs. I stretched, putting my arms into the air as high as I can, then craned my neck for a few times. I could have sworn I heard a soft crack on the left side.

With a sigh, I stood up. Almost too quickly as the room began to swirl very slowly. How long have I been sitting? Lying down? I knew that it had been hours but how long has it been? I've been staring at a white page for so long I didn't bother to check the time. I turned my head at 30 degrees. 5 pm.

What?! It couldn't be, but as I blinked hard at the wall clock above the door I knew exactly what the time was. Its short hand pointing directly at the number that took me by surprise, the third one ticking its way in seconds. Darn, I've been here all day on the couch doing nothing but having an intense staring contest with my computer for 8 hours. And I had only eaten one meal. My stomach growled just as I realized this, seemingly agreeing to what I had thought. If my headache hadn't triggered earlier, I would've sat here for as long as my heart can beat, without even bothering to get up and eat (hey that rhymed!). Thank god for creating such magnificent brains.

I wobbled toward the kitchen for a snack, still feeling quite dizzy from earlier. As I actioned to open the fridge, I noticed a piece of paper being pinned by a magnet on it. I released the magnet's hold and took the paper, giggling a little when it was colored pink. Already knowing who it was from, I read it anyway.

 _Hey Bon! If you're reading this then you're probably at home right now looking for something edible to munch on. I've brought a plate of lasagna for you to heat up. And eat of course. I might be home a little late, though. Got a lot of instruments to package_ _and Guyen's doing a terrible job at it. I'll be home at 6-ish or something. Love ya lots!_

 _-Marcy_

I placed the note on the table and opened the fridge, instantly seeing the plate of lasagna. I laughed when it was under another paper with a drawing of a big heart, "How sweet."

I took my seat by the table after microwaving my food. It smelt great, taking a bite with a fork I found it to be as delicious as it smelled. If Marcy bought this I'd ask where she got it from, but if she cooked, well that wasn't really a surprise. She was usually the 'chef' in our house, always cooking and brewing whatever crazy idea of a cuisine she had. The kitchen was her place, despite the numerous times of being with musical instruments and devices and amps and microphones. I, myself, have the skills, but cooking doesn't really interest me that much.

I put down my fork as it made a short clang on the plate, contemplating on what else to do next. I had an hour or so left before Marceline gets home, and I don't want to go back and stare at the horrifyingly bright radiation that is my laptop. I'm still empty with ideas anyway, I might accidentally time travel to the future just by thinking of a single word to type.

"Or maybe," I looked through the window with a thoughtful expression, "I could go outside and find some inspiration. Yeah, that's a great idea Bonnibel."

I stood up, snatched my journal from the living room and made my way to the door. The sun was beginning to set, the atmosphere slowly changing in color as reds and yellows painted in the sky. Even when the night approaches I can still here kids laughing in the distance. Probably still playing at the playground nearby, which is the first place I'm going to right now.

I began my journey to the park, but I walked slowly. At this time of day there are still a lot going on in the neighborhood. Shelby's on the porch reading a book with his glasses, feet propped up on the wooden railings. I hollered his name, and he looked up from his book and waved at me with his childish grin. I could see Billy in his garage checking up on his motorcycle, raising his wrench in greeting when he saw me walk by. An old couple I've known as Mr. Pigson and Mrs. Trunks were on their lawn with their variety of flowers. Mrs. Trunks called out a lovely hello, while Mr. Pigson threw me an apple from their orchard, to which I caught instinctively. Wow.

Oh how I've missed a lot from the outside world.

"How have you been, dear?" Mrs. Trunks happily greeted me when I approached their fence gate. "I haven't seen you outside in years!"

I chuckled. "I'm doing great, Tree. And no need for the sarcasm," I rolled my eyes slightly. That nickname had always stuck to me since I was little, when I first heard of how strange the name 'Trunks' was. The very first thing that came into my mind was 'tree' and never has the old lady minded me calling her that. The same had also gone with . "I haven't been out in only for a few weeks."

"Three weeks, mind you!" Tree jokingly accused. "That's exactly 21 days of doing absolutely nothing but looking straight at your computer. I thought you were out doing overtimes again, but you're lady friend told me you were busy writing fan fictions." Nearby, I could hear Mr. Pigson snorting.

"Oh did she now?" That silly goof. "I'm just working on a story, planning to make it a novel or something. But I'm having a bit of a blank space and can't think of anything on what it could be."

"For 3 weeks?" Pigson inquired with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhh…yes."

He shook his head fondly while Tree laughed. "I'm no longer fifteen, I don't make fan fictions anymore! At least not often." I countered, blushing a bit embarrassingly.

Tree smiled at me. "Well, it's good to see you up and running Bonnie dear." She said as her husband nodded in agreement.

I left with a wave after having a quick chat with them about how they were growing a garden in their backyard. They told me I can pick whatever fruit or veggie they had, despite telling the old couple that it was fine if I didn't. In the end, I nodded instead and promised another visit.

I made a soft right on the street and said hello to familiar faces all the way until I spotted the roof of a tall swirling slide in the distance. I quickened my pace, feeling a wave of nostalgia once I took foot on the grassy picnic areas. I didn't grow up and play in this playground, but somehow the sound of children laughing and shouting made me feel like I was one of them once again. Careless, innocent, and free.

I smiled despite myself, as a single tear came out in the corner of my eye. I never knew how much I've missed this, going out and remembering all the wonderful times I did. I wiped the tear away. I should really go out more.

I took my place on a bench and sat down, looking at people going about their business. With the journal on my lap, I tapped the leather cover with my pen, thinking of a plot for my story. It's quite hard to think when there's a lot of chatter and screaming, but at least it's better than the deathly quiet place of the house.

Eventually, I got bored, so I started counting the people I saw. With them moving around I lost count, but I ended up with 12. Then soon they started decreasing, still going about until I counted into single digits. Guess their heading home now, I hear less kids shouting, and when I looked up to the scenery miles above, the stars were telling me to do the same. But I kept my bottom glued to the bench.

The tapping on my journal turned into a beat as I began to hum a song. I was in a similar situation like this, being by myself under the night sky and jingle to my favorite songs. Right now I'm humming one I heard recently. I forgot what the title was, but it was definitely catchy to the point where I softly sang the lyrics. "I can't help it if I make a scene..."

" _Steppin' out of my hot pink limousine."_

I gave a lopsided grin. _"I'm turning heads and I'm stopping traffic."_

" _When I pose they scream-"_

" _-and when I joke they laugh. I got a…"_

" _Pair of eyes that they're getting lost in."_

I sang louder, a big grin plastered on my face. _"I hypnotize by the way I'm walking."_

" _I've got them dazzled like a stage magician, when I point they look."_

" _And when I talk they listen well."_

I looked up and smiled at the woman beside me. "Took you long enough."

Marceline chuckled, "Well thank you for your patience. I was gonna order some take-out for dinner, but judging by the empty plate on the sink I suppose you already had one." She threw me a crooked grin, clear amusement in her green eyes. I looked away blushing.

"Y-yeah. Couldn't hurt to eat again, though. If you're hungry." Being embarrassed wasn't a usual thing for most people, but with her, I've lost count of how many times I stammered.

She shook her head, bangs falling to her eyes at that short movement. "Nah, I already ate," she moved her hair away from her face and put an arm around me. "I was treated for being such a helpful co-worker."

I snorted. "Guyen's not that much of a worker, is he?"

She shrugged a shoulder, the one that wasn't on me. "He's never had anyone to help him in solo tasks. Plus he's a lazy dingus, that dude appreciates the extra hands."

"How nice of you," I remarked, to which she responded with a 'pfft'. "Although I can't help but notice that he's getting leaner and leaner."

"Well, to be honest Bon, you kinda are too," she faced me, all the humor replaced with a worried expression. "Not like you're getting thin or anything, I enjoy the curves and all that. But, uh, it's just that you're kind of…shrinking."

Well that was an accurate word for it. I sighed, "I knooow. I've only eaten breakfast today before staring at Microsoft Word for a couple of hours."

"Tone it down a bit now, would ya?" Marceline smiled, her playfulness returning. "I'm getting jealous of you paying more attention on that instead of me."

I shoved her slightly and giggled. "Jerk."

"The only one you'll ever have," she grinned that charming grin of hers. Whenever she does that I can't help but stare. I've never been so lucky in my entire life. "Although, even when I'm full, we can go grab a snack all the way." She stood up and held my hand.

"Why bother spend for food when you know we're _both_ full?" I asked with an eyebrow raised.

To my surprise, she pouted adorably. "I just thought it would be romantic and buy you some fries at McDonalds. Geez Bonnie, I'm trying to be a girlfriend here!"

Oh my god she's so cute! I wound my arms around her waist and pulled her close. "You already are, sweetie," I brushed her nose with my own, "you don't have to try." She responded with a soft smile and leaned her head to lock our lips into a kiss. I placed my arms around her neck while she placed hers on my waist, pressing our bodies together as we deepened the kiss. Her lips were always soft, warm, giving me a feeling I would never get tired of. I would shiver and moan whenever she asks for entrance and explore for as long as she wants, like what's happening right now.

After that amazing session, we ran out of breathe and had silly grins on our faces. We made our way to the fast food restaurant, hand in hand. It wasn't all that far ahead, maybe a few blocks away from the park, another reason why I chose to live here. The house was only a walk (or maybe a jog) away from places like these. And we get to have most of our friends as neighbors. It helps when you're thinking about stuff and have a nice stroll.

Through our journey we had a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company. But as we neared the borders of McDonalds Marceline started to sing. I laughed when I realized the song was from its commercial. _"Today we start to do something new. The world could be better, for me and you. We could talk and laugh and play. We could do this every day. Oh I just wanna say..."_

" _Together,"_ I added my voice in the song, " _we'll give it a try. Won't let life pass us by. Everything's better when we do it-"_

" _Together,"_ we opened the double doors and walked to the counter to order, _"We'll remember all these moments forever."_

Hearing us sing the song, the woman behind the counter smiled at us. "Good evening and welcome to McDonalds!"

…

As we got home, I threw all the plastic wrappers away and went to the living room, sitting on the couch as I eyed my laptop from the coffee able. "How's that going, by the way?" Marceline asked, motioning her head to the computer as she sat down next to me.

I slouched. "I haven't written anything."

"What?!" She stared at me wide-eyed, "For the whole day?"

I threw myself on her lap and released a groan. "Yesss."

Marcy combed my hair with her fingers and chuckled, "Oh my dear, sweet Bonnibel. You work yourself too hard. I know I don't usually do that stuff, but I can tell you that nothing can get your pretty mind to work if you focus on it too much," she tapped her finger on my temple. "Why don't you, umm, recall all the things you did today, would that help?"

"Hmm," that's not a bad idea, couldn't hurt to try. "I think it'll work."

"Great!" She said a bit too suddenly, making me jump. "Oops sorry. I'll be upstairs arranging all the equipment in the music room, I brought a ton instruments along. When I get back after twenty minutes, I expect five paragraphs written in ten pages," I moved away from her lap so that she can stand. She pecked me a kiss on my cheek and stood up, going to where she just told me.

I returned my gaze back to the computer in front of me, and a bit reluctantly I picked it up. When I opened its lid, it immediately showed the blank, wordless page that had been staring at me for 8 hours. I thought back to what I did today. I talked to a couple of people, specifically Tree and Mr. Pig, greeted Billy and Shelby, spotted a kid in a weird hat playing some sort of hero game with his dog in the park, listened to Marcy sing for some time, and ate a burger. Maybe I could write something based on their appearance and attitude. Billy's a big guy, tall and maybe even muscular, he can be a giant or something. The old couple I've known for years kind of reminded me of animals, hilarious I know. Marceline watches a lot of Twilight, no matter how much of a punk she thinks she is. Perhaps I can make it into a fantasy, or an adventure.

I grinned to myself. Five paragraphs in under twenty minutes? Pfft, you're on.

 **First off, I'd like to thank all of those who reviewed, followed and favorite my previous story. And to you as well, mysterious reader! :D**

 **Just to clear things up a little, this story is about the horrific condition we all have known as Writer's Block. Ironically, I wrote this when I had writer's block XD. I couldn't think of anything to write until I thought "Hey, why don't I just make a story about it!" It took quite a while but I feel accomplished. *puffs chest proudly***

 **Once again, I hope you enjoyed! See you all in the next post!**


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